


Come Home

by hopeless_romantic_spoonie, yespolkadot_kitty



Series: As You Are [15]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Disabled Reader, F/M, spoonie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-03 21:05:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21185975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_romantic_spoonie/pseuds/hopeless_romantic_spoonie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/yespolkadot_kitty/pseuds/yespolkadot_kitty
Summary: When Loki is late returning from a mission with the Avengers, Spoons gets anxious.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I promise we haven't forgotten about this series! We're just letting the inspiration guide us for what we post. But we can't forget about dear old Spoons and Loki!
> 
> As always, written with the steadily stupendous yespolkadot_kitty!

He was late.

Well, _technically_ he’d said the mission should only take two days when he had settled you into your nest on the couch, kissing you deeply on the lips and then brushing your hair from your forehead with a gentle swipe of his hand before rushing out the door.

But that was four days ago.

While you were normally a bundle of anxiety waiting for Loki to return from a mission with the team, this was something else. You paced around your flat when you had the energy to do so, and wrung your hands anxiously from the couch when you didn’t. Your lip would surely have permanent creases in it from where your teeth had worried it constantly, and you hadn’t looked in the mirror, but you wouldn’t be shocked if your hair had turned completely gray from the stress.

The entire team had gone on the mission, leaving you with only Pepper to pester, and her lips were sealed. From the agitation she’d displayed on your last phone call - “Tony is on the mission _too_ and I don’t know anything more than you do, so try and stay calm, okay?” - you figured it wise to stop bugging her.

Your body wasn’t handling the stress well, the typical aches and pains in your back increasing tenfold as you held your tension like a tightly wound spring along your spine. But no amount of pain medication, soothing Epsom salt baths, and muscle relaxers could ease the neverending maelstrom in your head.

_Loki is hurt. They’re all hurt. They aren’t coming back and you didn’t even tell him that you loved him before he left and does he really know that you do? You’ll never feel his heartbeat beneath your ear or hear your name on his lips or catch that mischievous gleam in his eye before he swept you off your feet-_

And then the door to your apartment opened.

And he limped in, dressed in his black hoodie and loose-fitting sweatpants, his beautiful face twisted in a smile that didn’t quite sit right for the bruises and cuts that marred his porcelain skin. “Honey, I’m home,” he drawled in that cut-glass accent that you feared you’d never hear again.

You couldn’t get up from your spot on the couch fast enough, all the wrathful speeches you had concocted in your mind turning to dust on your lips at the sight of his slumped shoulders. Ignoring the pain in your own body, you crashed into him. Your face found the hollow of his neck easily, and your arms held you to him like he was the only thing tethering you to this world. He grunted at the impact, but his embrace was no less fierce for it, clinging onto you so tightly that you thought you’d never take a deep breath again.

But you did, breathing him in, your nose crinkling at the faint smell of copper that lied beneath the clean, spicy citrus scent that normally perfumed his skin. He did the same to you, nuzzling his face into your hair, sighing into you like it was the first moment of peace he’d had in years. 

You felt him physically relax at your touch, the stress seeping out of his muscles in slow increments.

When you lifted your head from his chest to gaze up at him, you could more clearly see the extent of the injuries to his face. Whatever the mission was, it had been vicious, if he had managed to get hurt so badly. Your bulletproof man had suffered at the hands of some Big Bad, and the fatigue that tinted the skin beneath his eyes - or were those bruises? - spoke of epic and intense battles, the likes of which you couldn’t even imagine.

He kissed you, pouring every ounce of relief and love that he had into his lips, and you gave it all back and more, leaning into him.

“When did you get back?” you asked, letting one of your hands fall to twine your fingers with his.

He rubbed your knuckles with his thumb softly. “Perhaps an hour ago? I would have come as soon as we’d arrived, but Stark thought it best I take a shower first so as not to startle you.”

_Thank goodness for Tony._ Although you’d have welcomed him whatever state he’d been in.

You pulled him toward the bedroom gently, and he followed willingly, allowing you to nudge him toward the bed while you went to the medicine cabinet and pulled out your rudimentary first aid kit.

When you came back into the bedroom he was sprawled on his back over the mattress, his arms stretched out at his sides, his hoodie discarded onto the floor. His torso was worse than his face, his ribs and chest covered in bruises that made you ache just to see them. The worst seemed to be a gash across his stomach, angry and red in the soft warm light of your bedside lamps that he had flicked on using his magic - everyday “parlour tricks,” he called them, but they never failed to astound you.

His brows knit together when you carefully crawled onto the bed beside him, opening up the kit to peruse the contents for what you’d need. “You do not have to, kitten.”

“For once _I_ can take care of _you_, Loki,” you said quietly and firmly, tearing open an alcohol wipe and dropping the packaging to the bedspread offhandedly. “Let me?”

He sighed, both a sound of relief and resignation, nodding once. “Thank you.”

You knelt next to him, carefully swiping the wipe over the worst of his cuts. His gaze followed your every move, tender and awestruck, as you cleaned him up. When a bolt of lightning streaked through your body at holding the awkward position for so long, he hummed his displeasure before picking you up and depositing you over his thighs. Your weight settled onto them easily, the lax muscle there cushion enough for you to begin tending to the gash on his leanly muscled abdomen.

“I was so worried about you…” you whispered, almost to yourself, as you cleaned what little bit of blood had seeped from the wound in the journey from his home at the Tower to your apartment.

His hand, large and warm, smoothed over your thigh pressed to the side of his. “I apologize, truly. The situation was such that we couldn’t get communications back to you without jeopardizing the entire mission.”

You opened a fresh bandage and taped it over the wound, knowing it was probably pointless to do so, but instinct and habit forced your hand regardless. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you turned your face to the ceiling, clenching your jaw against the wave of emotions that threatened to overtake you. “I was scared for you.”

He sat up on the bed, encircling you in his arms, his lips grazing your cheek before coming to a stop just below your ear. “All is well, kitten. I’m here, I’m safe. There is _nothing_ in the Nine Realms that could take me from you.”

You curled into him, wrapping your arms around his neck to tangle your hands in the still damp midnight hair that brushed his shoulders. “I love you, Loki.”

His grip on you tightened slightly. “And I love you.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy/angsty smut. Loki's POV, following on from the previous chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> co-written with my marvellous smut sister, @hopelessromanticspoonie

Loki jerked awake to splintery light through the bedroom blinds, blinking away the last, syrupy vestiges of sleep. Spoons - as he’d begun to think of her, the nickname a sort of byword for intimacy between them - lay curled up beside him, her breathing slow and even, her lashes thick and dark against her cheeks.

He thought of the apple, and how she might react if he told her about it. If he offered it.

He’d been storing it in what he supposed Stephen Strange would refer to as a “pocket of reality” since Frigga had bestowed it upon him. And it would stay there, safe and golden, until he worked up the courage to offer it, on bended knee, to the mortal he loved beyond reason, beyond safety, beyond doubt.

If she refused it, he knew he would be crushed.

And he who had fought giants and a dozen kind of hellbeasts across the Nine Realms, felt fear unlike any he’d ever experienced, when he thought about his love’s refusal to take a bite of Idun’s apple.

She stirred next to him, and he pushed thoughts of the blessed fruit from his mind for now. She had received a shock last evening after days of waiting frantically, and he didn’t wish to add to her stress. Infact, he mused as she turned, the hem of her pyjama top riding up to reveal a tantalising strip of her hip bone, he had just the thing to ease her stress levels.

“Loki…..” 

His name on her lips never failed to simultaneously soothe and arouse him. He stroked her hair back from her forehead. “Sleep well, kitten?”

A grumpy look passed over her features. “I never sleep better than when you’re in bed with me. But **, ** you’ve ruined starfishing forever, I hope you know that.”

Fighting a smile at her adorable mortal nature, he held a hand up in submission. “I humbly accept any punishment you deem necessary,” he drawled, letting his gaze linger on her breasts, free of what she called a bra under the clingy pyjama material.

Surprise crossed her face and she sat up in bed, hair tumbling over her shoulders. “But… you’re injured.”

“Much improved after a night’s sleep, I assure you. And I have missed you dearly, sweeting.”

She liked the endearment, he could tell by the way her cheeks turned pinker. It was something he’d heard Odin call his Mother when he was younger; and she’d always seemed to like it. Loki had never considered using it himself until he’d met the woman currently sharing a bed with him.

“Well….”

“You cannot hurt me. I swear it upon all Heimdall sees.”

He watched her shoulders relax. “Okay, then. I missed you, too.” She moved into his arms, and as she looped hers around his neck and breathed him in, her cheek pressed against his, he felt everything in him still for a moment that stretched. She filled him up, buoyed his heart, made him feel hope and light and all the things he’d once thought closed off to him forever.

Undressing her slowly, Loki let himself take his time exploring her body, drinking in every sigh and gasp from her lips with each flick of his tongue and each stroke of his fingers. He gloried in the pebbling of her nipple as he laved it, delighted in the way she sighed his name as he slid his fingers into her, finding her wet and ready for him. Her muscles clenched around his digits and his cock jerked against her thigh, insistent. But he knew how to be patient.

She arched under him as he kept up the assault on the bundle of nerves at the apex of her body, pushing her to the brink of that cliff edge and holding her as she tumbled over, his name escaping her lips again. He’d never tire of that sound.

He held her through the little aftershocks of her climax, then left her briefly to sheathe himself. No one yet knew what effects Aesir seed would have on Midgardian women, but until the apple -  _ if _ he ever worked up the courage to offer it - he preferred not to take chances with her health and the health of any subsequent offspring.

The soft smile on her face as he pushed into her welcoming heat undid him. Pieces of his heart were lost to her forevermore as she held him close, wrapping her legs around his hips as he worshipped her with his body. Her muscles clenched around him as he thrust deeper, angling his body to coax another climax from her, and the expression of bliss on her face sent him over that sweet precipice too. Within moments of spending himself inside her, he rolled their bodies so he wouldn’t crush her, holding her close to him, her head pillowed on his chest.

She spread her palm out on his torso, and he felt her lips curve in a smile against his skin.

“I  _ hate _ how good you are at that.”

He chuckled. “Do you really? One would have thought you’d feel quite honoured to have such a gift bestowed upon you, mortal.”

She laughed, too, sliding her leg across his, the playful smile still in place on that face he adored more than any other. “I just wish it could last forever. One day I’ll be too old for these kind of…. Shenanigans. And too…”

He knew she was going to add  _ broken _ to that sentence, so he bent and kissed the words out of her mouth. “No more talk of that, darling. Perhaps, breakfast?”

Stretching, she gave him a rather delectable view of her breasts as she sat up and shook her hair out. The small wince of pain that twisted her face was like a dagger to his heart, but it fell away to her contented smile immediately after. “Please.”

He slid off the bed to dispose of the Midgardian contraception and headed for the kitchen, thinking.

“Nice ass,” she called cheekily from the bed.

Loki smiled to himself. Apples for breakfast, perhaps?


End file.
